<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>death by chocolate by CapnWinghead</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28224915">death by chocolate</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapnWinghead/pseuds/CapnWinghead'>CapnWinghead</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Pre-Slash</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:35:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,398</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28224915</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapnWinghead/pseuds/CapnWinghead</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Low on funds and desperate to get out of the New York summer heat, Bucky drags Sam into a bakery where they pretend to be a couple tasting cakes for their upcoming wedding.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>254</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>death by chocolate</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Transferred from tumblr!</p><p>Hope you enjoy the story!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s all Bucky’s fault.</p><p>Sam maintains that, even to this day.</p><p>They’re walking the streets on an inhumanly hot day. Bucky’s sweating profusely because he’s determined to wear all black in the summer. Sam, dressed in a tank top and shorts, isn’t faring much better. They turn the block and, at this point, Sam’s just trying to find a place to get inside and cool down for a bit.</p><p>Bucky jams his elbow into Sam’s side and gestures.</p><p>It’s a grand window display, one of those monstrously decadent and fancy wedding displays with decals on the glass of a bride smelling her bouquet and a faceless groom standing tall. At first, Sam’s confused about why Bucky’s pointing this out to him. Then his eyes fall to the giant, seven-layer wedding cake in the center of the display.</p><p>It’s a cake shop.</p><p>“Dude, weren’t you just whining about wedding cake last night?” Bucky asked, sweat beading down his temple. His hands are resting on his hips, his t-shirt starting to cling to his chest.</p><p>“Whining is a strong word,” Sam replies but Bucky isn’t too far off.</p><p>After Scott and Hope decided to elope, Sam lamented how sad it was that he missed out on wedding cake. Weddings he wasn’t always a big fan of: partially because it’s a night wearing uncomfortable shoes and making small talk with your friends’ distant relatives who know less about the bride and groom than you do. Secondly, it’s a reminder that he’d only gotten close to having his own once in his life and it slipped out from between his fingers. But with Scott and Hope, Sam’s sure the wedding would’ve actually been fun. Hope is a trip and Scott’s hilarious, usually by accident. Sam had missed the cake and the chance to see how Luis gets down on the dance floor.</p><p>Now, he’s too late to keep Bucky from snagging his arm. “Dude, what are you doing?” Sam asks as they move closer to the door.</p><p>“You can have cake without a wedding,” he said simply. Pulling Sam’s entire weight isn’t a problem for him. Sam doesn’t want to think too much about how that knowledge sends a flash of heat through his body. “I buy birthday cake all the time.”</p><p>“Yeah, from the grocery store, not a fancy pants cake shop.” He starts to say more when the door opens and all that sweet, sweet air-conditioned air hits his skin. Sam stops fighting within seconds, actually shivering as they step inside. Bucky shoots him a smug grin, earning an eye roll.</p><p>“Don’t start with me.”</p><p>“I didn’t say anything.” He slides his hands in his pockets, hiding his smile.</p><p>“Buck,” Sam starts.</p><p>“Didn’t say one word,” he replies.</p><p>There’s a huge glass display case that goes nearly from the front of the stop to the back. Inside are the most extravagant cakes Sam’s ever seen. Multi-tiered cakes anywhere from two to fifteen layers. None too large for New York, apparently. Sometimes, when he’d spent too much time in the field fighting alien monsters and Nazis, Sam forgot about things like rich people willing to shell out insane amounts of money for wedding cake.</p><p>“Fifty—” Bucky cut himself off, covering his mouth, eyes wide where they cut to Sam’s. “Fifty thousand dollars? For a piece of cake?”</p><p>“For a whole cake by the looks of it,” Sam notes, looking from the three-tier red velvet to some of the smaller cakes. Holy shit. “The minimum starts at $5,000. Maybe we should just go to a grocery store or buy some Betty Crocker mix.”</p><p>“Chances are the grocery store cake’s been sitting there in a display case drying out all day and it’s three blocks the other way. And we can’t make one because the oven’s still broken,” he adds sheepishly. As though he isn’t the one that got mad and punched it after burning his hand.</p><p>“So, our only options are stale wedding cake and a cake that costs five grand?” Sam touches his pockets, “Sorry, I don’t have that on me at the moment.”</p><p>Bucky sighed, rubbing at his brow. “I’m sorry.” He looks at Sam, his eyes soft, his lip stuck out as though he knew what the puppy dog eyes did to Sam. “I don’t know how much things cost, well, anywhere.”</p><p>Sam touches his shoulder gently. “It’s fine,” he murmurs. “Maybe Hope will let us use her—”</p><p>“Gentlemen?” a woman calls out.</p><p>It takes Sam a moment to realize she’s talking to them. “Excuse me?”</p><p>“Are you here for a tasting?” she asks sharply.</p><p>She’s dressed the opposite of how Sam would expect a baker to look. She’s not at all warm – dressed in a bright red pencil dress, her black hair cut in an asymmetrical bob sharp enough to cut someone. Her blue eyes scan them coolly, clearly taking in Sam’s tank top and Bucky’s ratty t-shirt with a hole in the sleeve. Bucky straightens defensively, his lip curling.</p><p>Sam’s hand tightens on his shoulder. “Actually—”</p><p>“Yep, we sure are,” Bucky says, the smile on his face smarmy and bland, his eyes narrowed.</p><p>Her eyes widen and Sam expects her to question it but she simply nods and turns around. “Come with me, please.”</p><p>Bucky moves past Sam and Sam snags his wrist. “What are you doing?”</p><p>Bucky flashes a smile at the woman before leaning into Sam, whispering, “You want cake, right? This way we get to try damn near all of them and it won’t cost us five grand.”</p><p>“Unless I somehow missed it, we’re not getting married.”</p><p>“We could be. You can’t resist my charm forever, babe,” he replies slyly and the name brings about a flash of something Sam refuses to acknowledge.</p><p>“Bucky,” he begins as Bucky rolls his eyes, grin widening.</p><p>“She doesn’t know that.” Bucky says simply. “Now,” he laces his fingers together with Sam’s, “come along, sweetheart.”</p><p>Sam ignores the nervous flutter in his stomach and lets himself be dragged forward. “Cool it with the pet names, okay?”</p><p>“Sure thing, doll.”</p><p>Sam’s face warms as they follow the woman through heavy, plush black curtains. The walls are a light russet stone, the floor beneath them shining marble. She leads them to a small room behind an opaque door. Even touching the rich mahogany of the door seemed out of their price range. Bucky holds the door for him, following him to the blue leather couch as the woman takes the chair across from them.</p><p>He sits much closer than Sam’s used to, the scent of his aftershave distracting Sam briefly. Bucky never wore cologne, he just isn’t that kind of guy. Usually, he smelled of simple soap and gun oil, if he smelled of anything. He must’ve shaved recently. The scent isn’t unpleasant, Sam admits quietly to himself.</p><p>“I’m Camille van der Baas. We typically don’t take walk ins but,” she eyes them curiously before clearing her throat. She’d pulled out a clip board at some point. “Could you tell me why you’re here exactly?”</p><p>Bucky leans forward, stuttering out, “We’re, uh, we’re getting married.” Sam refrains from face palming in response. Bucky clears his throat turning to Sam. He studies him briefly, his eyes softening. “Sam and I haven’t been together that long, but I’ve been in love with him about as long as I’ve known him.”</p><p>He’s still holding Sam’s gaze and Sam’s breath catches, his heart ticking up as beat in response. Bucky returns to Camille. Her eyes briefly widen before she averts her gaze to the clip board. “I meant more what your style is.” She cleared her throat, elaborating. ”For the wedding, the décor, what you’re looking for in a cake. My mistake.”</p><p>Bucky’s brows raise as he rubs the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. “Oh… we, uh, we’re regular guys, so we waited until we had the money for something great. Or at least, I did. I wanted it to be somethin’ special. Sam deserves the best.” He holds her gaze, his voice firm.</p><p>A nervous flutter picks up in Sam’s stomach as his eyes fall to their hands, inches apart between them on the sofa. Camille nods, making a few notes. “Let’s get started. Excuse me for a moment.”</p><p>As she leaves, Sam touches Bucky’s hand. “Have you always been this good an actor?”</p><p>The corner of Bucky’s mouth turns up, his eyes gleaming in the soft lighting. “I’m not that good.”</p><p>The words give Sam pause, his hands suddenly nervous when Bucky takes one and looks up as Camille returns. Two men behind her in pristine suits set down three silver cake platters on the table in front of the couch. They pull off the lids to reveal tiny versions of the large, multi-tiered cakes outside.</p><p>Sam’s mouth waters as he takes them in, his hands itching to reach for the forks. Bucky squeezes the one in his grasp, grin widening as Camille sits down.</p><p>“To start: lemon sponge,” she describes, sliding the platter forward.</p><p>The frosting is detailed and intricate, Sam’s sure it’s going to be way too sweet. Bucky takes one bite, his face twisting. He sets the fork down with a shake of the head. “I don’t like that.”</p><p>Sam laughs, taking a bite. It’s tart, the frosting a little overpowering buttercream. “It’s a bit too sweet,” Sam says.</p><p>Camille pushes forward another platter. “Coffee cream?”</p><p>Sam’s a fan, the bitterness of the coffee easily soothed by the sweet creamy frosting. Bucky’s less of a fan, finishing his bite but not going back for more.</p><p>“So, how long have you been engaged?” Camille asks.</p><p>“Not long,” Bucky says as Sam chimes in, “Two years.”</p><p>At Camille’s face, Bucky adds, “Which doesn’t seem like a long time to me because every day with Sam is, uh,” he coughs, clearing his throat, “a blessing.” Sam bit down a laugh, taking another bite of the coffee cream cake. “We didn’t have the money for a big wedding.”</p><p>He shoots Sam a look and Sam nods, adding, “I kept telling him we didn’t’ need one.” He looks to Camille. “What do you think? Did you have a big wedding?”</p><p>“I married rich,” she says plainly, earning a laugh. “Vanessa is… she says she’s not like her parents, but there are some things she’ll say or do that really show how different her childhood was. Things like not understanding that inviting over five hundred people means feeding five hundred people. I didn’t want a wedding I couldn’t have paid for without help.”</p><p>“Exactly,” Bucky says. “But you wanted her to be happy.”</p><p>Camille nods. “And she said she’d be fine with something smaller. She even offered city hall but…”</p><p>“She deserved better,” Bucky interjects.</p><p>Camille smiles tentatively, wider as Bucky offers her some of the coffee cream. She brings out German chocolate next.</p><p>“Have you thought about what you’ll serve as the main course?”</p><p>“Bucky’s a big steak guy,” Sam says readying his fork. “My man can eat.”</p><p>The corner of Bucky’s mouth turns up in a grin that, were it anyone else, Sam would call shy. They dig in and it’s good, but it isn’t great. Sam would eat it, sure, but it certainly isn’t good enough for their wedding.</p><p>Which they aren’t actually having, Sam reminds himself.</p><p>Even if Sharon actually went through with giving him the literal “kick in the ass he needs” to muster the courage to ask Bucky out on a date, there’s no sign it would go well. He doesn’t even know if Bucky’s interested in men or dating or dating Sam in particular. They still fight religiously, and while Sam thinks it’s become more of a habitual than venomous, that doesn’t mean Bucky sees him as anything more than his partner in crime.</p><p>There’s also the matter of the uniform.</p><p>Being Cap isn’t his first time having to deal with expectations. Steve had told Sam enough times about how the stars and stripes came with a set of pitfalls he hadn’t been prepared for. Whether he was the squeaky-clean poster child for war bonds or leads the Howling Commandos, everyone had their ideas of what Cap should stand for. Didn’t matter that Steve spoke out against them, that he publicly defended the Commandos roster and his friendship Arnie Roth at a time when bigots thought Cap should fight against “pandering to the races” and the gay community. Everyone had an opinion on what Cap should and shouldn’t do.</p><p>Sam never gave much thought to Steve’s words outside of commiseration, but now that the shield is his, he guesses he’ll have to deal with it. Although, if he’s being honest, it isn’t as if most of the bigots hadn’t already thrown several fits about a black man in the suit. </p><p>“Now, most couples go for the traditional white wedding cake with white frosting. You two don’t strike me as traditional.” Sam’s eyes cut to her and she pushes her glasses into her hair, her voice softening. “My partner and I did the big church wedding with the seven-layer cake, white with white frosting. Her family had an easier time accepting us when we did certain things the ‘classic’ way. The ‘right’ way, from their perspective. It’s delicious, but I’ll be the first to say that it’s not exactly an exciting choice.”</p><p>“Sam likes white cake,” Bucky says absently, still eying the remainder of the German chocolate cake.</p><p>Sam meets her eyes with a sheepish smile. “I do, but,” Bucky looks to him in question. “I do like it but, if it’s – if it’s my wedding,” his face burns, reminding him of the first time he’d tried (and failed) to get one over on his Mama as a child. “Which it is… I don’t know if I’d want the boring white cake with white frosting. No offense.”</p><p>“None taken,” she says. She slides a platter towards them. The fanciful frosting is a little less detailed than the display outside but it’s a level of elegance that still leaves Sam feeling a bit guilty they’re about to destroy it. “I still brought one in, just in case.”</p><p>Sam grabs a fork, passing one to Bucky before he digs in. Its light, the sponge so soft it practically melts on Sam’s tongue. He lets out an unintentional moan, his eyes closing of their own accord.</p><p>“That’s amazing,” he says, going in again.</p><p>Bucky’s watching him quietly, a strange look on his face as his own fork hovers above the platter. When Sam looks at him, he laughs. “You want us to leave you two alone?”</p><p>Sam rolls his eyes, “I like cake, alright?”</p><p>“I can see that,” Bucky replies, a light flush to his cheeks as he takes a bite. He chews for a bit, nodding to himself.</p><p>“Good?” Sam asks.</p><p>“It’s good, just…” he trails off, setting the fork down.</p><p>“Not your favorite,” Sam finishes.</p><p>“It’s good,” Bucky repeats, eyes cutting to Camille’s.</p><p>“Hey, it’s not just about what I want,” Sam says, pushing the nearly empty platter away. “Let’s try something else.”</p><p>“Death by Chocolate,” Camille suggests.</p><p>The second Sam takes in the chocolate dripping down the sides and the chocolate covered strawberries on top, his stomach actually growls. Bucky laughs, pulling the platter closer to them as he sinks his fork inside. It slides in so easily, the fork sinking in before he brings it up to his mouth. Sam watches with envy as Bucky chews, blinking a few times before he lets out a soft moan, his eyes rolling back.</p><p>Sam’s stomach clenches with a hunger he’s not entirely sure applies to the cake. He’s powerless to watch as Bucky finishes his bite and says, “That is the best damn cake I’ve ever had.”</p><p>Camille laughs, making notes on her sheet. “I hear that a lot.”</p><p>“Seriously, Sam,” his eyes meet Sam’s pleadingly, “Sam, that is the best cake I’ve had in 95 years.”</p><p>Camille says nothing but raises a brow. Sam hopes she just assumed Bucky’s being hyperbolic. Sam follows suit, taking a bite. It melts on his tongue, a little sweeter than the white cake. It’s delicious, he reflexively reaches for more as Bucky hands him a chocolate covered strawberry. It’s cool and fresh, the fruit tart and sweet on his tongue. He leans into Bucky as he chews.</p><p>“This is amazing. I think I might want to eat this, and only this, for the rest of my life.”</p><p>Bucky feeds him another bite with a laugh. “Might need some other food groups in there, too, babe.”</p><p>“Nope, just cake. I’ll die happy.”</p><p>Camille laughs quietly, setting down her clipboard. “We have Dutch chocolate and red velvet here, as well. Unless we’ve found a winner?”</p><p>Sam looks to Bucky who appears conflicted, as if they really have to choose a wedding cake here. As they really are considering what their friends would prefer. There’s Peter and Scott who’d eat anything. Jennifer Walters and Jessica Jones who’d drink just enough that they wouldn’t be picky. Hulk who was actually quite persnickety about the quality of the food he ate. Hope and Carol loved just about any cake. Sam isn’t sure if Maria Hill and Fury have ever eaten cake. Come to think of it, he’d never seen them eat food.</p><p>“I don’t know if everyone would want chocolate,” Bucky says with a frown.</p><p>“So?” Sam asks seriously.</p><p>Honestly, they rarely found things that Bucky was enthusiastic about. Most of the time, he had trouble asking for things he wanted or expressing preference for anything. Any time they stumbled across an album, a TV show or a movie he genuinely loved, Sam went above and beyond to embrace it. Sometimes he felt like a nerd trying really hard to impress the cool outcast in high school. Bucky never seemed to mind.</p><p>“Well, it matters. We’re getting married, I want everyone to have a good time.”</p><p>“Big wedding?” Camille asks.</p><p>“Yes,” Bucky replies as Sam says “No.”</p><p>Camille carefully focuses on her clip board as Bucky says, “You talk all the time about that big family.”</p><p>“Yeah, and how I grew up in the church. They weren’t exactly welcoming when they found out about me.” Bucky blinks at him. “I’m not bending over backwards to have them back in my life. Especially on our special day. No way. I want it to just be us and our friends.”</p><p>Bucky’s eyes harden as he takes Sam’s hand. “Okay.”</p><p>“Can I just say,” Camille begins, drawing their attention. She leans forward, clasping her hands together, her eyes gentle. “It’s not about the cake.” They stare at her. “Your wedding is about celebrating your relationship and you guys seem really happy together.” Sam’s face burns and he fights to keep a straight face. “You haven’t stopped checking in with each other since this started and I hate to say it, but way too many couples come in and don’t care at all what their partner thinks. Maybe there’s a few people that don’t love the cake you choose. So what? It’s not about them.”</p><p>“She’s right,” Sam says, squeezing his hand. He suddenly feels as though he’s not talking about cake.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>They leave the shop with some pamphlets, leads on the best caterers, florists and wedding planners. Camille had even been nice enough to package up some samples of the cakes they’d tried in case they wanted to taste test with their friends. She hadn’t seemed all that surprised in hearing they planned to wed pretty far in the future. As they left the shop, she thanked them for coming in.</p><p>“No problem, thanks for seeing us,” Bucky says, rubbing the back of his neck. Sam could see a twinge of guilt in his expression and he wonders about when he’d started to get good at reading Bucky’s face.</p><p>“Of course, of course,” Camille says, crossing her arms with a sharp grin. “Anything for two Avengers.”</p><p>Bucky blinked at her, a flush of pink across his nose. As she lets them out, Sam puts his hand on Bucky’s back, leading him out.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Several years later, their Death by Chocolate wedding cake is a huge hit. It permanently stains Sam’s dress shirt when Bucky nails him in the face with a handful of it at reception, but it’s worth it to see the pure joy on his face. </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>